


Sunlit Embrace

by InkSilver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Biting, Complete, Consensual, Drabble, Draville - relationship, Dreville - relationship, Established Dreville, Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, Ficlet, Fluff, Gardener Neville, Gardens, Gay Sex, HP rarepairs, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, NSFW, Oneshot, Outdoor Sex, Sex in the garden, Short, Smut, Snapshot Story, established draville, potions master draco, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15339348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSilver/pseuds/InkSilver
Summary: Neville slips away from a business luncheon he and Draco are hosting, and Draco soon follows to find him toiling in the garden. Naturally, they soon find themselves thoroughly distracted.





	Sunlit Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> I was intending to prompt another fic writer with the following, but ended up deciding to write the short ficlet myself instead.
> 
> Draco and Neville. Alone together + Neville’s garden. “I will never tire of finding you here like this,” Draco said as he stepped out of the shadow of a tree from where he’d been watching Neville work.

Draco stood in the shadow under an old Wiggentree at the edge of the garden. He watched in admiration as Neville tended to a section of magical herbs, the light of the day painting him in gold. They were both in the magical section of their garden, which in turn was separated into several distinct areas including a few specialized greenhouses. Neville was intensely proud of his work – not only was it well balanced and organized, it was flourishing, providing them both with more than enough to harvest, prepare, and sell as potions supplies and for Draco to brew into his potions, which were quickly gaining renown as highly effective and reliable. They made for good partners. Draco was endlessly pleased with his partnership with Neville.

Draco marveled to himself over just how beautiful the man was, how lucky to have him in his life. Neville’s face was flushed, his arms glinting with sweat, his freckles dark against his glowing skin, muscles pressing against his visibly damp shirt. Draco could watch him work like this for hours on end. Unfortunately, today wasn’t a day where he could lose himself in the brilliance.

“I will never tire of finding you here like this,” Draco said as he stepped out of the shadow of the tree from where he’d been watching Neville work.

The freckled face glanced up at him and smiled, the warmth in his expression rivaling that of the sun. “You say that every day,” he answered with a teasing tone.

“And I will continue to say it as it will continue to be true,” Draco said reasonably. “However, is right now really the best day to be working out here like this?” He glanced pointedly down at Neville’s dirtied dress pants and undershirt, and raised an eyebrow at the dress robes draped haphazardly over a not-so-clean stool by the nearby workbench.

Neville protested a touch too defensively, “I needed to get these in the ground around noon or their growth would have been stunted!”

“But did that need to be today?” Draco enquired not unkindly.

Neville looked sheepish, “I…Okay, you’re right. I could have waited till tomorrow, but I…” He sighed, and continued, “I needed a break from all those big-headed business people. They’re insufferable!”

Draco knelt down by him, taking his dirt-covered hands into his own, pointedly ignoring the damage to his fancy dress robes – his lover was more important than a little dirt. “I know, and I completely agree with you. They’re right prats, the lot of them, but they’re big in this business. We have to work with them for now, or at least appear to.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. I Have Better Things To Do Than Pander To These Buffoons Who Know And Care Nothing About Potions-Making!” Neville glared, the heat to his words dimming as he fumbled his retort.

Draco raised a brow, and with a quirk of his lips asked, “Need some milk to clear that mouthful?”

“No! But thank you!” Neville tried to keep up his glare, but within a moment he snorted and started laughing instead. It was a deep, true belly laugh, and he leaned forward, clutching his stomach, face reddening, the last of his tension from their business affairs draining away as dry earth sucks up water. Draco joined in, chuckling, and placed a hand on his love’s back to ground him.

Once they had both reasonably recovered, Draco said, “Salazar, I needed that! Those stuffed shirts are excruciating. We should probably get back to the luncheon soon – I don’t think they made note of your disappearance, but with _both_ of us gone, they’re sure to have noticed. I left Lovegood and Granger in charge, though, so we have a little longer.”

Neville looked at him with love in his eyes, “You always think of everything.” He cupped Draco’s cheek, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Draco’s lips.

Draco melted, as he always did when Neville kissed him. Draco’s arms rose to embrace the man, one gently clasping the back of his neck, the other wrapping around his sturdy waist. He very softly rubbed his lips from side to side against Neville’s before sucking his bottom lip between his own. He teased his lip with the tip of his tongue before nipping at it gently.

A jolt of sensation went through Neville’s body at the action. Forgetting time and Draco’s slightly precarious kneeling position, Neville pressed his body against Draco’s, simultaneously kissing him deeper. A moment later, overbalanced, Draco toppled sideways and backwards, pulling Neville over with him.

They laughed breathlessly as they lay on the warm ground, the smell of slightly damp earth and growing things all around them. They awkwardly rearranged themselves, Draco wrapping his long arms securely around Neville, who lay partially on top of him and partially on his side.

Neville leaned down and kissed Draco languidly, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before sitting back a bit to trace swirling designs across Draco’s chest. He looked thoughtful.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” Draco asked him, as he lightly played with Neville’s sun-streaked auburn hair. He loved every minute ridge of the man’s warm brown eyes and could simply stare into them till the world froze over, if he’d let him.

“I’m just thinking over the luncheon. I know we have to get back to it, but I don’t want to. I’d rather stay here and work. Or…not,” he waggled his brows in a dorky way that made Draco love him all the more. “I hate how they treat us. Especially you,” he added, more seriously.

“I know. I’d _much_ rather that. But remember – we only have to keep this up a little while longer. It’s only a matter of time until we are fully established with a base of loyal customers who will grow our business _for_ us due to the quality of our products,” Draco said, passion winding its way into his words.

“True…” Neville said, nodding thoughtfully, only slightly distracted by how beautiful Draco looked when he was wrapped up with the intrigue of business and, in particular, their own. The twinkle in his eyes alone had Neville’s body responding with arousal.

“It won’t be long until they realize that we are a formidable competitor in the potions and magical ingredients market, and they learn that we are not the humble innocents, unfamiliar with the harsh realities of the Wizarding business world that they think we are. The fools! They are _nothing_ compared to the Pure-blood obsessed families I grew up learning to artfully insinuate myself among, honing my skills of establishing power. They would quail before the intricacies of Pure-blood family marriage negotiations,” Draco finished, his cheeks flushed, having barely paused for breath as he vented his frustration. He knew the games to be ridiculous yet necessary, but admittedly, he loved it all. He couldn’t wait for the turning point when his competition would know just how inferior they were to him.

Neville nodded and leaned forward to nibble and lick his sensitive earlobes in just the way he knew would drive Draco crazy. He pressed himself against Draco, letting him feel his excitement.

Draco smirked and in one quick movement rolled Neville onto his back and propped himself over him, his belly pressed against his lover’s, his leg casually thrown over Neville’s, the top of his thigh mere millimetres away from his lover’s semi-hard cock. He kissed him deeply, lingering teasingly before moving down to his neck where he mouthed at the beautiful, sensitive skin. Neville gasped and groaned low in his throat, rolling his hips ever so slightly in fruitless hope for contact with Draco’s never-quite-close-enough thigh. Draco’s heart beat in time with the throbbing in his growing cock, pressed against Neville’s thigh, thick from daily work in the gardens.

Draco pulled away to grin tauntingly down at Neville before returning to mouth down his neck. He bit hard for a few moments, swirling his tongue over the captured skin before releasing it to kiss and suck at the spot, enjoying the hitch in his lover’s breath, the unconscious rolling of his hips, the nearly inaudible whimper.

“Let them wait,” Neville gasped urgently.

Draco paused and pulled back, tilting his head just slightly and quirking one eyebrow, amusement and enquiry on his face. The fingers of his available hand found Neville’s hard left nipple through the fabric of his shirt and he scraped the tip of it with his fingernail in one quick movement before lazily swirling outward in an ever larger spiral around and around.

“It will just go to show what business amateurs we are,” Neville continued breathlessly, “to get distracted and forget ourselves at a fancy event we’re hosting. It will throw them off-guard when we are flawlessly perfect in future events!”

“You should have been a Slytherin,” Draco commented with a sly grin, not for the first time.

Neville shrugged, almost managing to make it look casual as though he didn’t just wish Draco would rip his clothes off and shag him right then and there and _damn_ the consequences. “I should have been a Hufflepuff, too,” he said, his voice almost steady despite the gentle, but firm kneading of his nipple held captive by Draco’s deft fingers.

“You would make a great Hufflepuff, and an incredible Slytherin, but I love your Gryffindor aspects, too,” Draco remarked, meaning every word, and somehow coming off casually as though they were merely out at a teashop date. He was an expert at this game.

“Oh?” Neville asked in an off-hand tone with a raised eyebrow of his own, mimicking Draco’s classic expression.

Draco leaned forward and murmured into his ear in a smooth, low voice, “Who else but a Gryffindor who’s come into his confidence would attempt to charm the pants off a once-enemy?” He nibbled and sucked at the lobe.

Neville’s laugh caught and turned into a soft cry. Tingles swept through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. “And succeed! Literally!” he managed to exclaim.

“My point exactly,” Draco replied with a low chuckle and a smirk. He pulled out his wand and charmed the pants off of Neville.

With a shout of laughter, Neville surged upwards, pulling his face down to his, and snogged Draco fervently, rendering them both breathless. He whispered, “I see what you did there, you gorgeous prick!” and promptly pulled aside the neck of Draco’s robes to bite his shoulder, mouthing at it as Draco’s body jerked and pressed harder against him. Draco’s breath came quickly and sharply.

Neville felt around for his wand while he had Draco distracted and managed to find it just within reach. He removed Draco’s clothes with a flick of his wand before setting it aside. In one quick maneuver, Neville rolled Draco onto his back and straddled his thighs, pressing their hard cocks together. He moaned at the feel of Draco’s erect cock against his own, the skin silky-soft. He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, not caring where it landed.

The sun glinting off his light chest hair, his tummy deceptively soft, hiding his impressive gardening muscles, Neville looked beautiful from this position – and every position, if Draco was being honest with himself. Neville leaned down, letting their cocks press firmly against each other, to kiss Draco’s chest. His fingers lightly traced the long scar up his chest and abdomen, the skin silver-white where it had been sealed together years before.

His lips closed over his beloved’s pink nipple, he sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before scraping his teeth across the nib. Draco’s body jerked under him and his hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling at it from the roots, but keeping Neville’s head in place. His back arched at the next hard nip to his nipple as Neville simultaneously dragged his nails down his side. Draco let out a strangled shout of pleasure and pain, and he ground his hard cock up against Neville’s.

Neville gasped and pressed forward to capture Draco’s lips with his own. Their tongues tangled desperately together before Draco withdrew his tongue to bite at Neville’s bottom lip. He wound his arms around the wizard above him, locking him against him as he rocked his hips against Neville’s. Their breathing came fast and heavy.

Neville mouthed at Draco’s collarbones, his shoulders, the base of his neck, his chest, and reached out for his wand. “Sit up,” he urged, and they spent a few moments figuring out just how to make that possible. Giggling together in between kisses and awkward maneuverings, Neville quickly cast a full-body sun protection spell over Draco’s pale skin and a cleansing charm over them both – he didn’t want to create lubed mud on accident. Once Draco was in a stable sitting position, his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his weight balanced on his palms, and Neville was once more straddling his lap, their cocks pressed together, Neville conjured lube into his right hand. He set his wand aside, placed his wandhand on Draco’s shoulder to steady himself, and met his lover’s silver eyes.

“No using your hands,” Neville ordered sternly. Then he leaned forward till his lips glanced Draco’s earlobe as he whispered, “Don’t help. Let me do all the work.” A shiver ran through Draco’s body at his words; he nodded and Neville sat back. Maintaining eye contact, Neville reached between them and gripped Draco’s cock in his hand, working the lube over him. Draco’s breathing was ragged, his cock twitching.

After a few moments, Neville used forefinger and thumb to add his cock into his grip. Rolling his hips, he pressed himself into his hand, rubbing up against Draco’s cock in the process. He repeated the motion, keeping his lover’s cock firmly cupped in his hand, open just enough to thrust his cock through. A few more thrusts, and he began to move his hand up and down the length of Draco’s cock in a swiveling motion in time with his movements.

Draco broke eye contact first, letting his head drop back on his shoulders with eyes closed and a soft, “Fuck!” His breathing was heavy, his focus entirely on the sensations burning through his nerve endings, building, building. His hips and thighs quivered with the desire to move. It took everything in him not to thrust up into Neville’s hand, the lubed roughness of his palm a sensation he had come to yearn for over the years.

A smirk flitted across Neville’s face. Feeling triumphant, he increased his pace, his hips moving over Draco’s thighs, sweat glistening on their skin, the heat building between them as the breeze spiced with the aromas of hundreds of different herbs swirled around them.

He wished he could see Draco’s expression, he knew from experience that at this point Draco couldn’t hide behind a mask. He knew what he would see, though - pale eyebrows drawn up and together, lips slightly parted and emitting panting breaths, his long eyelashes quivering as he kept his eyes pressed tightly closed, lost in a sea of sensation.

Daringly Neville leaned forward and mouthed desperately at the pearlescent skin where his neck met his shoulder. He bit, hard, and was rewarded with a gargled moan as a jolt ran through Draco’s body and into his own. He become lost in the sensation, his hips and hand pumping, faster and faster, his teeth leaving a glistening trail of bruises and impressions on Draco’s neck, his shoulders, his collarbones, building, building.

The heat swelled, focused like a sun blossoming into creation where their bodies met, desperation growing. Neville made a needy noise deep in his throat, his mouth questing, and Draco raised his face to meet Neville’s, his eyes half-lidded with need. Their lips clashed together, pressing and sucking. The sensation building, building. Neville bit down on Draco’s bottom lip and stars exploded across his vision, sensation washing through him, an exclamation rising unheeded from his parted lips, his hips bucking up into Neville’s steady hand as he came in great spurts, his cum splattering his stomach and adding to the lubrication on Neville’s hand.

Watching Draco come, feeling the jolts of energy, magical and physical, surging through him, the thrusting of Draco’s cock against his own, the incomprehensible moans had Neville coming, too. Sensation shot through him like fire, curling his toes, rippling through his muscles, anal muscles spasming, his cum joining Draco’s between them. The sheer joy of the moment, the overwhelm of his senses, and he was laughing!

With a whoop, Draco let gravity win by wrapping his arms around Neville and letting them fall, him backwards and Neville forwards, to the spongy earth. He ignored the pain in his wrists from holding their combined weight during their lovemaking and cradled his very spent lover.

“That was _incredible_ ,” he murmured, eyes closed and voice low. His body hummed in the diminishing glow of overly-used senses.

“Mmmm,” Neville mustered in reply. Laying still, letting his muscles fully relax against Draco after such intense activity felt nearly as good as the sex itself. Nearly. Well, sort of.

They spent several long moments enjoying laying together, Neville’s shorter, stockier body splayed out over Draco’s long and lean one. Slowly the world outside of them returned to their awareness - soft birdsong, the flutterings of insects, and the sound of approaching footsteps over dry earth.

Draco groaned, guessing who it must be, remembering for the first time in several minutes that they were supposed to be acting as proper hosts for a business event, not losing themselves in blissful fucking out in the gardens. Neville raised his head and met Draco’s amused gaze with wide eyes.

“Uh-oh,” Draco whispered loudly, knowing full-well there was a good chance she would hear them as she approached. “Looks like we’re in trouble.”

Neville grinned, his humor pushing aside his anxiety, “Maybe she’ll be gentler on us what with the eyeful we’ve given her. We’re too beautiful together to rebuke,” he returned in a matching whisper.

Draco laughed, and from the movement, they could feel the cum between their abdomens sealing their skin and body hair together. Draco laughed harder, the laughter so contagious Neville couldn’t help but join him.

Lovegood stopped her approach at the end of the row a few metres away and called in her dreamy voice, “You’re right, you know, you really have given me an eyeful. Would you like me to turn around while you unstick yourselves?”

Their laughter subsided and they looked at each other. Draco raised an eyebrow. Neville smiled and nodded, understanding that Draco was leaving it up to him - Draco rarely seemed to feel self-conscious when nude. He thought a moment, then called back lightly, “Thanks, Luna, I’d appreciate that.”

She turned away. “There was a lovely swarm of Ixbies over by your shrivelfigs. Did you plant them to bring the Ixbies? They like shrivelfigs. Remarkably they eat the flowers inside…”

Draco stopped paying attention to the fanciful witch and returned his attention to Neville, who was trying to reach his wand without pulling too much against their skin. Neville really hated the feeling of individual hairs being pulled, so if he could just reach it -

Draco twiddled his own wand where Neville could see it with a cheeky grin. “What?” he asked lightly in answer to Neville’s scowl.

“You just liked the feeling of me moving around on you didn’t you?”

“Well, I’d be lying to say I didn’t. Now, are you going to keep fussing, or did you want me to unseal our skin so we can get back to the party we’re supposed to be hosting?” Draco teased. Without waiting for a reply, he cast a wonderfully effective cleansing charm, removing dirt, lube, sweat, and the dried cum holding their hairs and skin hostage. “There! Better?”

Neville got up stiffly with a “Hrumph,” stretched, and grabbed his wand. Draco enjoyed the view of the man bending forward to pick up the wand - with a smirk, he mentally noted that Neville managed it without bending his knees, giving him quite the view.

Lovegood was still happily chatting away behind them, “...Their magic is very powerful, you see, to be able to pluck a flower from inside the fruit without leaving any sign of its disappearance. And the fruits just grow new flowers to replace the ones they eat!”

Draco lingered for a moment, enjoying the freedom of lying naked on the soft dirt, surrounded by green things rather than thick, red, sweaty faces watching him as if he looked to be nearly ready for the reaping.

“We really do need to be getting back, you two,” Lovegood said in her mild way, her voice filtering through his thoughts. Draco groaned to himself. Back to the games, then.

As they dressed, they listened to Lovegood: “I’m not sure Hermione’s hair _can_ get any more frazzled than it was when I left to fetch you. I almost thought the Nargles had been trying to steal locks of her hair, but then got confused when it was still attached to her head,” she rambled, “but I think it was just how often she played with her hair every time they asked questions about where you’d gone off to.”

Both men chuckled at the mental image.

“...They said some very rude things about you disappearing. I don’t think they like when you don’t play their games the way they want you to,” she continued musingly.

Once they had both checked and double-checked that they had returned to a presentable state of dress, Draco announced, “I believe we’re ready to return and apologize profusely for our ill-timed sojourn. Clearly we are sorely lacking in manners. However do we hope to function in society, I can only imagine.”

“I know my grandmother raised me better than this, oh please forgive us! We’re so new to all of this and hoping to gain your favor and respect is frankly overwhelming, it never even occurred to me that my absence would be noted, when you all have each other to entertain, as you all are such highly successful and respectable business folk!” Neville joined in, with overly wide eyes and earnest voice, as they walked back through the gardens towards the courtyard surrounded by greenhouses.

Draco and Lovegood laughed. Lovegood clapped her hands, “Oh, do another!”

“Why sirs,” Draco began, all too happy to oblige, “we humbly ask your forgiveness. We would graciously take to heart any advice you might like to offer to avoid any future social stumbles!” In his usual, dry voice he added, “They wouldn’t know what would serve them best - to air their frustrations by correcting our behavior, or hold their vicious little tongues in hopes we’ll fall on our faces next time, too, further demonstrating how inferior we are to them in this business!”

Neville nodded, and Lovegood hummed in agreement.

As they approached the courtyard, they could hear strained-sounding, falsely polite voices getting louder with each step. Neville pulled up short, reaching a hand out to Draco. “I’m not sure I’m ready to face them yet,” he said softly.

Draco turned to him and took his face gently in his hands, his eyes pouring over his lover’s beautiful face. “We can do this, Neville. We are in this together, and together we will show them in time that we are not to be trifled with.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I just hate having to grovel to them and play their game.”

“Only for a little while longer, love. And then it will be _our_ game, not theirs. It already is, and they don’t even know it yet,” Draco said with a soft ferocity to his words.

"You’re right,” Neville agreed, steel creeping into his voice. He met Draco’s eyes, pulled back his shoulders, raised his chin, and slipped his hand onto Draco’s proffered arm.

Lovegood smiled her dreamiest smile, and together they walked back into the fray of competing politeness and snide compliments.


End file.
